


Useful

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, M/M, S/M, dom!hux, sub!Kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7705777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snoke has a new Apprentice: Rey. He thinks Kylo is redundant, but Hux has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He didn’t expect mercy, so he never gave it. It was a useless concept, in and of itself. If someone was weak enough to _need_ mercy, then they were unlikely to be strong enough to repay the favour that granting it gave them. So he didn’t, as a rule, hand out free passes. He never had done, and never would.

The Supreme Leader’s rule was law, though, and Hux respected the command structure: it was in place for a reason. Hux knew the same amount about the Force as any layperson did - perhaps a little more - so when Snoke instructed him to end Ren and prevent further disruption, he left the crumbling command section of the Starkiller proper, headed out to where the tracking unit blipped pitifully. Ending him would be a mercy of a kind, but it was also - in some respects - tactically sound. You didn’t leave your now-enemy alive to avenge themselves in the future.

The Leader had a new Apprentice, a new Initiate. That much was clear. Snoke had tolerated failure after failure from his head Knight, but now… something had changed, it had to, for him to suddenly abandon the Solo boy.

It had to be the girl. The scavenger, the waif and stray that Kylo had been so fixated on that he’d thrown the map to Skywalker right into the Resistance’s grubby, oil-smeared paws. She’d been strong enough - without training - to resist Ren, and thus she had more potential than him, and so - if she could be swayed - she was a stronger asset than him.

The Order knew no better leader than power. It was something he’d had drummed into him from his callow youth: strength was everything, without it, you were useless, expendable, without merit. Hux had never been born to crack skulls with his bare hands, so he’d had to learn other ways to be useful, to be strong. He’d learned how to command respect and troops, how to strategically plan, how to kill from afar. How to make up for his deficiencies with cunning.

Ren had tied his own worth up with the Force. He might be physically powerful, granted, but that had been a side-note to his supernatural abilities. And now the Leader thought Hux could dispatch him from this mortal coil, which would require some careful attention. Unless the man were unconscious, he could still read Hux’s mind and intentions, and he would still be able to fight back. 

He wasn’t sure if he was conscious, though, because the little blipping hadn’t moved since he’d first consulted it. The small shuttle pulled to a halt five minutes’ walk away (enough to give him some element of surprise) and his blaster was in his hand, ready. He’d had to remove his glove to get his handprint to register, and the snowy, chill air was cutting through and making his skin dry out unpleasantly. The snow encased his boots as he walked, and he could feel the planet giving way underneath him. It creaked and groaned, and he could imagine the deep, deep forces at play as it ripped itself apart. All that energy - the sun he’d harnessed for his own purposes - unchecked and uncontrolled in a small, rocky mantle and…

All that time. All that effort. All that… _investment_. The money and the resources and the sheer bloody _dedication_. He’d put his heart and soul into this project. Yes, he’d blown up the Hosnian system, and _yes_ , okay, so he’d done more with his one station than the Empire had with _two_ Death Stars, but… 

His chest tightened with an unfamiliar sensation. No… it wasn’t unfamiliar. It was just that he’d worked so hard to avoid it for so many years that the magnitude of this wave caught him off-guard.

And made him forget himself.

Made him forget to approach the Knight with caution. The clearing opened up, and he could see why, perhaps, the girl hadn’t finished him off. She either thought he was done for, or the wide, smiling gash into the planet’s lower strata had distracted her. 

Kylo lay in the snow, a ragged pile of black fabric that barely moved. If Hux didn’t have the tracker on Kylo’s belt, he likely would never have found him. The snow around him was stained like fruit syrup in shaved ice, the only mercy being the cold had slowed the flow of it.

Hux hadn’t seen his face before today, and still he could tell he was paler than before. No surprise. His eyes were closed in a rictus of pain, and Hux actually… forgot he was supposed to be putting him out of his misery for a moment. He holstered his weapon and walked over, dropping to a crouch beside him and reaching to feel for a pulse.

“Make… it quick,” came Ren’s broken request, his eyes not opening, his full lips barely moving around the words.  


So he knew. Maybe he’d known since the fight. He hadn’t made an attempt to call for help, and he hadn’t acknowledged Hux’s approach. He was resigned to his fate, broken and dejected. He didn’t plead, and Hux…

…kind of… respected him, for that. He’d recognised his end was here, and he didn’t debase himself by asking for mercy. He knew he wasn’t wanted, and…

It just sort of - something - clicked in his head. He stared at the man, and he…

No. Something said ‘no’. He wasn’t done for, not yet. Hux shook his head. “Can you stand?”

Kylo’s brown eyes opened, then, and gazed up in confusion. Confusion, and the tiniest hint of hope. 

He could use him. No: _make use of him_. The man wasn’t entirely without merit, and… well. If he showed him mercy, he suspected he’d earn his loyalty. Admittedly the man had turned from one Master, but that Master had been a Jedi, and Hux didn’t blame him for that. He hadn’t turned from _Snoke_ , but been rejected by him. And even now, he was ready to accept the death sentence passed on him. 

But Hux… could use his talents. He had the things that Hux lacked: physical prowess, and… psychic. Things that Hux knew he would need, if he were ever to advance further, himself. Kylo Ren could fill the gaps in his own skillset, and Hux could wield him as a weapon.

He just had to mould him.

Yes.

“Stop mewling like a baby and put your arm over my shoulder, you overgrown punching bag,” Hux said, and pushed against his side. “Try not to trip me up.”  


“Hux…”  


“Don’t make me change my mind, Ren.”  


***

It was not easy hefting the oaf onboard. When he got closer, troopers (who hadn’t known the order from Snoke, and even if they did, wouldn’t baulk) ran out to help him with the rest of the way. 

Kylo turned his face - which, by the way, was a mess - away from them. Hux wondered how much of Ren’s habitual clothing was mandated, and how much was his own, ridiculous quirks. Perhaps it had started out as a means of intimidation, and the Knight had become so ingrained in the use of it that he simply couldn’t function without it. 

The trooper who’d shown most medical ability ran scans over him, put a metallic blanket around him, and only shook in terror twice at Kylo’s abortive snaps. Hux told the Knight in no uncertain terms that he was _not_ to bite the hand that cured him, and to stop acting like a baby.

To his surprise, Kylo… didn’t argue back. He took one more look at Hux, then he cowered into himself without a further word. 

Which was why he was now covered in first-field Bacta dressings, wrapped in a silver blanket, facing the wall and lying on his back because he didn’t seem to have a ‘good’ side. 

Hux had seen some of his injuries, and frankly, he was surprised he’d lived. There was a nasty electrical blaster-bolt to the side (one that couldn’t possibly be a blaster rifle, it looked much stronger than that), and deep, scoring marks that had cauterised when they went, but had cut deeply into arms, face, shoulder and neck. Lightsaber, then. Nothing else cut and burned quite like an archaic blade of frozen plasma. He was lucky he hadn’t been decapitated, in all honest: those incisions were deep and could easily have sliced through tendons and bones. 

No wonder he was subdued. 

Hux had instructed the shuttle to go to his safehouse, not to the _Finalizer_. He didn’t think he’d gain _much_ time if the Leader truly objected to his minor disobedience, but he’d have a bit of a head run if he did it from somewhere _not_ surrounded by troopers.

Which meant his prime getaway was now burned, but oh well. 

The troops all left them in the relative solitude of the main cabin, where Kylo was reclining on the pull-down cot. 

Silence stretched.

“Hux…”  


“What is it?”  


“Why… why did you…?” 

His face was still turned, and his voice was eerie, without the helmet. He sounded Human, less threatening. Hux was going to have to get him a replacement to wear in public; there would be no intimidating people with a voice like that.  


And how did he answer? How did he say: _I didn’t think you were quite done, yet?_ Or, perhaps worse, _I saw something in you I didn’t like to remember in myself?_

“You have yet to outlive your usefulness.” For him, use was high praise indeed. It was, after all, what he’d had instilled in him as the second greatest good. Power being the first, use being what the powerful made of others.   


Kylo didn’t answer. Hux was trying to temper down the feeling that he’d just made the single, biggest mistake of his life.

On a whim. Not… _mercy_ , but something close.

***

“I told you to end him,” the Leader said, his eyes furious with rage and disappointment. The first was worrying, the second…  


“I can make use of him, Leader. I can–”  


“You believe your judgement supersedes my own?”  


“No, Supreme Leader, I… merely think I can make use of him. You do not need him, but he could speed up my efforts to serve you.” Hux was fighting his body’s response to this, fighting sense-memory of another man, another disappointed voice.  


He was stronger, now. He was _stronger_.

“Any mistakes he makes will be on your head.”  


The call cut.

Hux breathed.

This was insane.

***

The Knight couldn’t wear a mask, not yet. The gash to his face was too deep, and it needed regular redressing and open air to heal. It would scar permanently, as would the mark to his side. The other wounds were much less significant in comparison.

He was in the bed in the main guestroom, waiting for Hux to return from the call. When Hux entered, he didn’t even look up.

“Well?”  


“Aren’t you just going to read my mind?” Hux asked, in part because he didn’t like being put on the spot by Kylo, and in part because he actually wanted the excuse to ask.  


“I don’t tend to do it unless I have a reason to.”  


Hux would probably never stop reading minds, had he the power. It would make life so much easier to know what others were thinking at any given moment. Still. It would make managing him much easier if Kylo was telling the truth right now.

“You are remanded to my care, and control.”  


Kylo did turn his head, then, narrowing his dark eyes in utter confusion. “What?”

“Are you deaf as well as foolish? I said: you are under my care and control.”  


“No.”  


No, what? No: he wasn’t deaf, or foolish? No: he wasn’t under Hux’s purview? No in general? 

“Need I remind you that the sole reason you are still alive is by my mercy?” Mercy. Such a strange concept. This one hadn’t really earned it, over the years. He’d been an absolute pain in every single bodily part Hux had, and if anything, he was a wildcard who didn’t really listen to command.  


Or… hadn’t so far. Hux thought, perhaps, that people had used the wrong tactics on him. And a pet, tamed Knight would be a serious asset for Hux. 

“ _Why_?” the Knight pushed again.  


“I believe you have use,” Hux repeated. “You are of use to me. Or you will be, when you recover. You will follow my lead, and you will accept my decisions.”  


“You’re a - you’re _nobody_.”  


Hux was not nobody. Once upon a time, he might have flinched. Not now. His jaw set, and his eyes hardened, and his voice came from low in his gut. “I am the one the Leader sent to kill you. I am the one who chose _not_ to. I am the one the Leader has given _you_ to. You would do best to remember these things, Lord Ren, as I will tolerate less failure than your previous Master.”

He decided to let him dwell on that, and left him to stew in his own juices.

Kylo Ren - such as he was - was going to get the training he _needed_ , not the half-assed, hands-off version the Leader had invested in. You only went hands-off when the whelp would know how to obey without your hand on the controls.

Hux arranged their flight back to the _Finalizer_.

***

“We’re going to work on your training regime,” Hux said, tablet in one hand, skim-reading through the management info graphs as he spoke. He could multi-task.  


“I don’t n–”  


“I’ve written a physical routine with the advice of the medical droids. This will work on restoring your core strength and flexibility, without re-opening your wounds. You will focus on this initially, and add in your usual Force techniques - _non-physical only_ \- until your body is back to peak condition. Then we will focus on your Force and other fine tuning skills.”  


“You’re not a Force-user, Hux.”  


“I’m aware of that, but I also don’t fly TIE-Interceptors. I can still write a training plan, with the correct consultation from expert opinions.”  


“ _I_ am the expert on Force-matters.”  


“Really?” He looked up from the tablet. “Really.”  


“Yes!”  


“Do these exercises. I will check on your progress in a week. Don’t slack, or I will know.”   


He left, and knew he would obey. For all the Knight’s complaining, he was just chafing to see how much leeway he had. Hux had to be firm and sure, and everything would work out fine.

***

Kylo did as he was asked. In fact, he did more. Hux made sure to check with the medical droids every day, and he found that on a couple of occasions he’d pushed himself a little too far and been told to reel himself back in. Whether that was from frustration with his lack of progress, or from bloody-minded disobedience he didn’t know.

He’d work that out, before long. 

When he came to see Ren, the man was clearly healing fast. The gouge across his face was angry and pink, but it no longer looked infected or worsening. He was still walking and moving stiffly, and still guarding his flank when he had to flex his torso. Stubbornness made his full lips thin out, and he lifted his head in fury, trying to use his marginal height and much broader shoulders to intimidate.

Hux knew Ren was only alive because of him, so it wasn’t going to work.

“You do realise the Leader no longer feels you are of use to him?”  


“That is–”  


“Yes, or no?”  


Hux waited for the answer, not backing down until Ren let it sink home enough. 

When he didn’t respond, he pushed: “Do you think you are without use?”

There was a pause, and Kylo didn’t reply straight. “What do you think?”

“I asked you, Ren.”  


“Well, for one, you can drop that,” Kylo snarked. “If I’m no longer of use - or Master of his Knights - then I’m not _Ren_.”  


Fair point. That reduced him to one name, and really, Hux could work with it. “Do you want to die?”

“Who the fuck wants to die?”  


“You seemed ready to, on the Starkiller.”  


Kylo couldn’t answer that. His face turned, his jaw tight. “That was… it was…”

“I might not have the Force, but I know control. I can teach you that. You will learn how to master _yourself_ , and the other things will follow.”  


“You can’t just–”  


Hux cleared his throat, and Kylo quietened. 

“Has what you’ve tried so far worked?” the General asked.  


“I’m st–”  


“Has it worked?” he pushed.  


Kylo didn’t answer, but he didn’t fight again.

“You will try my methods. You owe me as much.”  


“And in return?”  


“Your life was not enough?” Hux asked.  


“And when _you_ find someone to replace me?”  


“If I find someone who exceeds you, they won’t need my assistance to guide them, will they? This is a mutually beneficial arrangement: I get your services, you get my discipline.”  


“It won’t work.”  


“It won’t if you don’t want it to,” Hux said, rising. “This is your last chance, Kylo, nameless man. You were due to be executed. You either admit that you were wrong, or you die with your stubborn pride intact.”  


“I…” Kylo started to object, and then…  


He was breaking, and Hux didn’t want to destroy him, just undo the damage enough to set the bones back to heal right.

“You’re not useless,” he told the faltering man. “You’ve just not been trained properly. You _do_ have potential, and I can unlock it. You are _not_ without your uses, Kylo.”   


“It’s too late for that.”  


“Only if you don’t work with me.” Hux looked down, and he wondered at this. This man-child, who was clearly a mess inside. Who could _be so much_. Snoke had no clue, did he? He wanted the best outcome, without being prepared to put the effort in.   


Hux knew what hard work could win you. It could overcome the gaps. It could make even the most miserably thin, reedy, and weak boys strong.

Kylo was not thin or reedy. He was, in some senses, weak. But that could be fixed, he knew it. He knew it, and he intended to prove everyone wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

To his pleasant (slight) surprise, Kylo put himself into his lessons. Hux had to try a few things with him, because Kylo did _not_ have very good focus, and when he got frustrated, he tended to fly off the handle and try to sabotage the session instead of co-operate. He didn’t seem to know how to handle failure, so Hux built that into the sessions.

He gave him increasingly hard tasks, pushing him to the edge of his comfort zone. Now his side was better, he could take more hammering. On one leg, balancing, blindfolded and fighting off little aerial bots. Hux had them fire faster and harder, and eventually - as planned - one got through and hit him on the ass.

Kylo _swore_. He swore like the son of a smuggler he was, and threw his training staff to one side and ripped off the blindfold. His eyes blazed with anger, and Hux didn’t react in kind. He kept his calm - this was his plan after all - and didn’t rise to his feet.

“ _How is this helping?”_ Kylo screeched in protest.   


“It is teaching you how to deal with the impossible.”  


“THERE IS NO DEALING WITH THE IMPOSSIBLE!” the Dark Jedi yelled, his teeth bared and his body in a fighting stance. His reaction to extremis was - of course - to try to _fight it_.   


“There is. Some things you can’t do.”  


“Then why the fuck are you trying to make me do them?”  


“To show you that getting angry with yourself - and others - and the situation - doesn’t resolve it,” he said, putting his work down and folding his hands on his lap.   


“That’s a fucking stupid idea!”  


Hux cocked his head to one side. “You’re wasting your energy, right now. You’re getting annoyed, and you’re losing your awareness of yourself, and the situation. You’re not intimidating me, or changing things. You’re just making yourself look foolish and immature.”

“Me? I’m fucking immature? You have no idea what it’s _like_ to use the Force!”  


“No, and yet I can also survive in this world, and thrive, without it. If we removed your Force ability, who would you be?”  


“Not fucking here,” Kylo snapped.  


“Back with your family?” Hux sneered, letting that comment get to him for a fraction of a moment longer than he should have.  


“Well, I wouldn’t be _here_ ,” Kylo said, his tone going quieter. Apparently coming back to his baseline a little more. 

He’d played a card he shouldn’t, and Hux had won the round. It was a bitter-sweet victory at best.  


“But you are. So let’s work on how you can use things that aren’t the Force, and also how you can prevent someone from pushing you to that place where you lose control.”  


“It’s… Hux, it’s…” His incisors came down into his lower lip, clearly wanting to confess, and not yet sure he could.   


“What?”  


“The… Dark Side. It… you’re supposed to use your emotion. What you want is…”  


“Does using the Dark preclude other things? Can you not use your emotion, but truly  _use_ it, instead of be used by it?”  


“It’s… you can’t just _not_ feel, Hux.”  


“No, but you can feel without letting it rule you,” Hux said. He nodded to the seats beside him, and waited for Kylo to sit next to him. “I feel. I feel plenty of things. But I don’t let them take over, not when I don’t need them to.”  


“…how?”  


“I have my eye on the goal. I know what I need out of a situation. I feel things, and I let those feelings happen, but _I_ am in control.”  


Kylo pushed away from his seat. “That’s - that’s - _Jedi_ , Hux,” he spat, angry and hurt. 

“Did they tell you to still feel?”  


“No, I - Hux, you can’t just–”  


“Your emotion **powers** your abilities, yes?”   


“…yes.”  


“Then why don’t you still use the _power_  - something I am sure the Jedi don’t do - and then _direct it_.”   


“It’s not that simple.”  


“I didn’t say it was. I assume, if it was, then everyone would do it. But you… you feel too much to be a Jedi, don’t you?” He was using conjecture, now, but he had to _try_. After all…  


…yes. He was a proud man. And yes, the thought of Mastering the Force where Jedi of generations and even the Supreme Leader had failed… even by proxy, it would be one hell of an achievement. He would like that string in his bow. 

“…yes.”  


“And you’re strong in the Force, aren’t you?”  


“…yes.” Less of a pause that time.  


“Then it stands to reason that you’d need something different. But that depth of your feeling… it is not a curse. It just means you need to work _harder_ to wield it. It’s like the kick of a rifle compared to a pistol.” Yes, that worked as an analogy.  


“But what if I can’t?”  


“You won’t, if you believe you can’t. But you _can_. And you **will**. Now… get up. And accept some of the bolts will be beyond your ability to stop.”  


Hux watched as Kylo did, without complaint. He got up, and he found his staff and blindfold. 

Yes. They were going to prove _everyone wrong_.

***

Hux pushed him harder. Kylo pushed back. Hux _did not let him win_.

That was the important thing, he’d realised. Kylo had spent so long faltering under people, desperate for instruction, and he’d been royally let down. 

Well. The Jedi uncle was no surprise. Hux had even less time for the Jedi than he did for the Leader’s version, and he only cared at _all_ now because he was weirdly invested in this partnership. 

Still. The Leader had thrown this one aside, after how many years of trying? Surely if he was that useless he should never have tried with him? He just didn’t know how to handle him, not really. The Leader wasn’t…

…wasn’t as… infallible as Hux would have liked to think.

He’d backed down over Kylo, when Hux had been half-convinced it would be a fight to the death. He wasn’t… he wasn’t the man Hux had thought. Which meant…

(Treason. Don’t think it. Don’t.)

He did.

 _There was always the invisible, third option. There was always room to rise._ People had underestimated Hux all his life.

One day he’d rise so high that no one would look down on him at all.

(Treason. He thought it all the same.)

***

Kylo was… Kylo was…

Hux was beyond pleased. He was. The man had just needed _pushing_ , and not being left to his own devices. He strained and shoved and fought and needed _constant_ clucking at, but Hux had it down to a fine art.

All he had to do was not rise to Kylo’s emotional outbursts, to insist he _could_ and **would** succeed, and Kylo would step back into line. He flourished under the durasteel rod, and Hux was only concerned that Snoke would see this for the… potential danger it really was. 

Kylo was ridiculously powerful. Even Hux could tell that. And once he’d convinced him to accept his training, shown him the benefits, Kylo had made the logical step to _fall in line_. Force or not.

And Hux was as pleased as he could be. He watched the man - blindfolded - one arm tied behind his back - fighting with a staff barely longer than his forearm - spinning through targets that he _knew_ shocked impossibly hard. He had them ramped all the way up to borderline damaging, but Kylo ducked and dodged the majority of blows, and took what hits he had and _used them to keep fighting_.

That was his real skill, wasn’t it? The ability to use his pain, to turn it into anger, into fuel. Hux was beginning to suspect the Knight had more of a masochistic streak than he’d first thought, and he’d thought it quite a _lot_ before. 

He watched - entranced - as the Knight wove through the unpatterned, mechanical flow of danger. He couldn’t read a droid’s mind, so he had to rely on other things. He could tell where they _were_ , but not where they _would be_. And it was really something to observe.

Kylo was - after all - in very good shape. His body had healed fully from the injuries, and he was ridiculously toned and strong. Those arms could break a man just by flexing in his general direction, and those thighs… yep. Hux appreciated them. Aesthetically, of course. 

Just on a purely shallow, physical level. 

His hair bound up, the man strode over, towelling the sweat from his brow and releasing his bound arm. He looked across for approval, and at the slight smile, he… _fuck_. He lit up in pleasure, didn’t he? He really, _really_ liked being under Hux’s tutelage. 

And there was that look in his eyes, that… hopeful, desperate look when he waited for Hux’s judgement on his actions. He really valued what Hux had to say, and he really **needed** his validation. 

Hux knew how that felt, but he’d never felt it reciprocated, though. He’d long since given up on relying on anyone else for his own self-worth. It was nigh on impossible for people to understand what you were going through, or how hard you’d fought to get there. And maybe he resented Kylo for getting that in himself, but…

“Again?” Kylo asked, picking up on the momentary flicker of doubt.  


“Enough for today.”  


“I can go again, you know, it’s–”  


“Enough,” he said, as gently as he could. “You did well. Tomorrow you can do more.”  


Kylo looked so sad, then, that it was painful.

Fuck.

Oh… fuck.

Hux left. Quickly.

***

He couldn’t stay in the room, not after that kind of a thought. Although Kylo claimed he didn’t trespass as a rule, he’d also admitted (guiltily, quietly) that sometimes he did it without thinking. That if he was tired, or someone was emotional enough, that it wasn’t so much as an intrusion on his behalf, but the other way around. Something that needed _blocking_.

Hux was pretty sure he wasn’t the type to loudly broadcast anything other than irritation with incompetence, but Kylo had been spending more time around him, and he was training himself so hard that he was likely to be more suggestible and open to ‘hearing’. 

Which. Also part of the problem.

It turned out breaking in a Knight - Dark or otherwise - was a very hands-on affair. And he was pretty sure the Knight now had some weird kind of… bond thing going on. 

Because. Well. He’d stopped arguing so much. In fact, he was almost Humanly acceptable in Hux’s presence. He’d taken to acknowledging him politely, listening to what he had to say, and… acting like a respectful subordinate. 

It was more than that, though. He’d caught flickers of it. Sometimes a subordinate got… too attached. Either it clicked with something in them, or… or else it was their inbuilt survival instinct. Hux knew better than to indulge his staff when they became overly attached. It would be more than unprofessional of him. And Kylo _was_ his subordinate, even if he wasn’t in the rank structure. It… it wasn’t…

It just wouldn’t be wise. Would it?

Not that Hux had much chance of anything else. He couldn’t hold down a relationship with anyone who wasn’t his equal, or who was anywhere in his hierarchy. As there _was_ no one who stood shoulder to shoulder with him, and _everyone_ (barring Snoke, which was a route he didn’t want to consider) was below him in his hierarchy… he…

Well. There wasn’t anyone. He could find himself a willing female like his _father_ had done, but he had no desire to do that. He’d just always assumed he had a handle on his libido, but he’d definitely let his eyes linger a little too long in that last training session, and he’d _definitely_ felt a strange, answering pull in his gut at the demure way the Knight had looked up for more instruction.

It was just one of those things. People tended to feel… well. They tried to make a connection with the person in control. It didn’t _mean_ anything. It was just their way of trying to ensure the stronger person would protect them.

Huh.

Stronger.

…yep. That went straight to his ego. Hux had to go for a long walk to get himself in order.

***

In bed, that night. Half aware of things, half not. The dim confusion of semi-lucid dreaming. 

The Knight, on his knees. On his knees, and looking up. Asking for his command, and–

Hux sat bolt upright, hissing at the stiffness tenting his regulation sheets. It was the middle of the night and he was having perverted sex dreams about Kylo. 

Which were totally inappropriate, if somewhat confusingly pleasant. His dick certainly liked the idea of Kylo kneeling for him, and maybe Kylo _wasn’t_ crushing on him. Maybe he was wishing he did, seeing what he wanted to in the other man’s face.

Hux glared at the bump in the fabric, the boner that demanded his attention. _Down_. **Down.** It wasn’t right.

But if he didn’t deal with it, he’d be even more uncomfortable. 

 _Fine_. Down went the sheets and around went the hand. He tried to think of anything else, but it just… it wouldn’t work until…

…Kylo’s lips. So full, so red, so ready to please and obey. Wrapped around his cock, smiling up at him and– _fuck._ Hux threw his head back into the pillows as he came, splashing over his belly and hand at the thought of the Knight.

It was going to take some extra self-control not to think like this in Kylo’s presence.

***

Hux was busy the next three days. Maybe a little more busy than he _needed_ to be, but he sent along enough instruction to keep the Knight on his toes. 

Which wasn’t good enough for Kylo, apparently, because he came storming onto the bridge in the middle of day three, and striding up to demand his attention.

“General.”  


“Ren, I’m busy.” He used the title - the non-surname - without thinking.  


And he _heard_ the hissed breath in response. Well. He’d have to give him another surname, wouldn’t he? Not like he kept any name for long.

“I need to talk to you.”  


“I’m busy,” Hux said. “You can request an appointment slot on my calendar.”  


“I need to talk to you _now_ ,” Kylo continued, a little of that loss of control, the edge of hysteria in his tone.  


Three days? That’s all it took for him to deteriorate? Three days? Had he learned nothing? He was making a fool of himself in front of everyone, undoing all Hux’s hard work, and eroding their authority in front of the staff. It would _not_ do. But if he caved and gave Kylo what he wanted, he would lose ground with him.

This, too, was part of the battle. 

“You will wait until I am ready to speak to you,” Hux snapped back. “And if you won’t do so in an orderly fashion, then you will stand in the corner until I call for you.”   


If he was going to act like a child - in front of everyone - then he would be treated as one. 

This was a dangerous move. Kylo - now he was back to himself - was very obviously capable of doing a lot of damage to both himself and his ship. And his crew. He could overpower everyone here, and Hux doubted his staff could draw and shoot rapidly and overwhelmingly enough to take Kylo down. The only thing he had in his favour was _he wanted to win, and Kylo wanted it less_. 

So he stared him down. Through the mask, knowing where his eyes would be, he fixed his gaze and _did not back down._

The moment went on. It went on too long, and Hux’s jaw twitched. 

“ _Please,”_ said Kylo.  


It was a surprise to hear it. It was… well. Yes. A surprise. It wasn’t a demand, this time, it was a request. It was a backing down, but it was a well-played, conniving one. _He was learning, after all_. 

“Go to the briefing room. I will be along as quickly as I am able.”  


Hux had won, but he could be gracious in his success. He also wanted to know what the hell had Kylo so worked up that he would come charging in like this, and he wanted everyone to know he was a _fair_ (if firm) man. 

Kylo nodded, and snapped his heels in the process. Hux did not watch him go, but his mind was not on his work. He’d been thoroughly derailed, but he didn’t want Kylo to know that. Or his staff. He flicked through some more stats, finding the centre of his own, inner calm. Breathe. Breathe.

Focus.

Control.

Once he felt ready, he handed over nominal control and walked into the briefing room. Kylo hadn’t sat down, he’d been pacing the whole time.

“You do know I am responsible for more than just you, don’t you?” he started.  


“You’re avoiding me.”  


“I’ve been busy.”  


“You’re _avoiding me_ ,” Kylo pushed, again. “Don’t lie to me. I can tell if you lie to me.”  


“I thought you said you didn’t read my mind.”  


“I _don’t need to_ ,” Kylo snapped. “I’ve done everything you asked… but it wasn’t enough? You’re going to - you’re–”  


Oh. _Oh_. Kylo thought Hux was trying to palm him off, or edge him out? That was what this temper tantrum was about? A fear of rejection? “Don’t be foolish. I’m not about to airlock you, you buffoon.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me?”  


“It’s been three days, it’s hardly a lifetime. Is your separation anxiety really that bad?”  


Hux had spent a lot of his life alone. Most of his life, even the bits where people had been present. He hadn’t really thought about what kind of a life the other had lead, because it was so far out of his realm of experience as to be incomprehensible. He’d been the son of…

Was this about him? About Hux? Or was it about his family, and his former Master? His former Master, who had - it seemed - barely spent a day in Kylo’s presence. Hmm. Hux thought about it for a moment, watching Kylo turn red and then blue and then red again. 

“Look, I just–”  


Hux made a little shushing noise, and watched as Kylo struggled to obey. _Progress_. Maybe less quickly than he’d like, but it was progress, all the same. “Kylo. I can’t be expected to be around all the time for you. It’s another thing you’re going to have to control.”

“But you didn’t - I didn’t know you’d _come back_ ,” Kylo snapped, his voice breaking over the admission.  


“Well, I am here, now. Does that satisfy your concerns?”  


His head lowered, more of the fight leaving him. He was trying, wasn’t he? He really was. Hux could admire that, even if he didn’t ‘get’ how deeply and fiercely Kylo seemed to feel about _every single thing that crossed his mind_. How he operated was quite beyond him. No wonder everyone else had found him impossibly hard to train.

“Kylo. Kylo, look at me.”  


Reluctantly, his head lifted. 

“I will - on occasion - be busy. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be here, or that I’ve given up on you. You cannot, however, storm into my work and demand attention. If you require it, you will ask for it politely, and through the correct channels.”  


“…I…” He wanted to argue. Hux could see it.   


What was the problem? Was it the asking, or the admitting? “Before it gets to this point. Control. Remember? You can still need this badly, and get what you need without resorting to tantrums and screaming. You will get _more_ things if you ask for them correctly.”

“…you… haven’t… given up?”  


“Would I be here, right now, if I had?”  


Kylo shook his head.

“Take some time to regain your composure. If you are feeling… if you are needing company, you can remain on the bridge with me, if you keep yourself out of trouble.” It wouldn’t inconvenience him, if Kylo behaved. It would also show the staff that he had him under control. Win:win.  


“…thankyou.” It was almost inaudible, muttered under his breath.  


Hux wondered quite what everyone had done to this man to make him so unstable. He’d never met anyone this prone to melting down over the slightest problem. He doubted it was wholly Kylo’s fault, not considering how readily he took to instruction once you explained it well enough. 

“I’m not giving up on you,” he reminded him. “Now make yourself presentable. I have work to finish.”  


“Yes. Yes… I will.”  


***

If only Kylo knew the reason Hux had been avoiding him was the _opposite_ of wanting rid of him. Maybe it was for the best he didn’t, because that little display of panic had really cooled his bones down.

He’d thought they’d made such progress, he had. Kylo had been keeping his temper in training sessions, using his emotions and honing his deadly skills to the nth degree. Hux had actually started wondering if he should step back a little before… that incident.

He did not want to have to deal with a dependent Kylo, but now he’d started… he kind of had to continue. To give up would be to admit he was wrong, and to admit the man was beyond saving. And… Hux didn’t want that. 

Maybe it was a bit too personal. Maybe he was projecting intensely. It was more than likely, but he’d made that snap decision in the cold, and he… was… more emotionally weak than he would ever have let on. The logical thing - the thing he kept trying to drum into Kylo - would have been to kill him and move on. He wouldn’t have this problem, now, and he wouldn’t be forced to try formulating new strategies just to keep the Knight functional. 

But hubris was his weakness, and would always be his weakness. He didn’t like being told ‘no’, and he didn’t like being forced to admit he was wrong. He’d rather re-write the galaxy than be forced to bend and scrape and cede. He just tried very hard not to let anyone _know_.

He couldn’t give up, which meant he had to control himself. 

Which always sounded easier in his head than it was in practice.

***

Kylo deteriorated in their sessions. It was frustrating in the extreme, and Hux felt his confidence dip. The more his satisfaction plummeted, the worse Kylo’s control became. It was a biofeedback loop, a vicious circle.

It was… it was infuriating in the extreme. 

“You had this a week ago.”  


“Yeah, well.”  


“Kylo… focus.”  


“Don’t you think I’m _trying_?” His voice raised for the first time since the bridge. He’d been fighting his anger since then, and now it was too much.  


Hux considered walking out, and then he saw the realisation on Kylo’s face. “You’re in my mind.”

“No.”  


“Don’t lie to me.”  


“I– that was _you_ , not me,” Kylo objected. “I couldn’t help it.”  


“Then you know you’re being childish and immature.”  


“Me? I’m not the one who keeps wanting to run off and leave me! How does that make me immature?”  


“Your reaction to it,” Hux answered, smoothly, trying to de-escalate the tension. “And distance doesn’t mean a surrender, it simply means I think you could benefit from time and space.”  


“Really? When time and space are what caused this?” Kylo threw his training staff down, then called his saber to his hand.   


Hux doubted it was for an actual attack, but it definitely caught his attention, despite himself. Any time the Knight had his actual weapon in his hand was a potential disaster, intentionally or not. “I told you: you need to get used to doing things without me holding your hand.”

“Because you’re going to get tired of me. Or angry with me. Or disappointed with me. Wait… _you already are_.”  


It was true this setback did hurt, but it didn’t mean this was impossible. Just… harder than his initial assessment. But he’d really hoped Kylo would have more sense than this. Three days and he was in ruins? What would happen if he sent him away on a mission? 

“I’m disappointed with us both,” Hux said, instead. “I thought you were further along than this, but I failed to realise the high intensity training would make you attach so firmly. It’s a learning point for us both.”  


“ _I’m not a fucking learning point_ ,” Kylo growled, saber on and twirling. “ **Fuck you**.”  


“ **Kylo** ,” Hux said, putting depth, but not volume in his voice. “Turn your weapon _off_. We will talk about this as civilised adults.”  


He’d rarely had to resort to such barbarity, but he could see the whites around Kylo’s eyes, could see that fear was stronger than anything else in him, right now. 

“ _You’re going to–”_

Enough was enough. Hux walked over - breath stalled in his chest - and put his hand on Kylo’s, sliding the man’s thumb over the ignition switch and killing the blade. Unmanning, disarming, impotising. “Would I be here, now, if I was giving up? I picked you up out of the snow when I was told to _kill you_. I argued with the Leader for the right to give you a second chance. I’m learning about your damned Force things in order to _help you_. You do **not** need to fight for my attention. You ask me _nicely_.” Pause. Breathe. Continue. “I’m - sorry - that my schedule has made you feel insecure, but you _are_ going to have to work on that. **I am still here, Kylo**.” 

Kylo looked broken. Utterly, utterly broken. Hux realised his own pride had kept him from acting out on this til now, his own horror at his need, his lack of self-sustenance muting his tongue. He wanted so badly to be enough, didn’t he? He’d waited until he was exploding, and…

“Kylo.”  


He wasn’t answering. His hand on the hilt turned white at the edges of his grip, his shoulders shaking with repressed emotion. He was still fighting himself, unable to fully control the crests and breaks of his emotional self.

He was terrifying, in a way. He felt things so differently to Hux himself. Hux, who would let a bone break before he ever broke an emotional sweat. Hux who felt, but never - or rarely ever - let it crack his impossibly polished surface. Kylo was screaming magma, threatening to burn the surface of the earth. 

“I– I– c-can’t… I… I th-thought–”  


He was struggling so very, very hard. Hux kept hold of the saber, reaching up with the other hand to the back of Kylo’s neck. He tugged him in, forcing him to bend his neck, to drop his head. Pushed his own against it. “Go into my mind. See how sure of you I am. See how much I’m prepared to fight to get you where you need to be. Take my calm and make it yours.”

Hux had no idea if it would work, but he could tell the moment was more than just a few firm words would manage. He wasn’t following any rule book, and that was disorientating for him. It was all command decisions, on the fly. He might be teaching Kylo _control_ , but Kylo was teaching him the opposite: the dynamic, the ever-shifting, the unpredictable and the reactionary.

Kylo did not need telling twice, and Hux felt the air sort of _shift_. Felt it like a drop in the pressure in the room, and then there was a sense of being in another room. Another room, but Kylo’s thoughts were just out of reach: fuzzy and confusing, whispers he couldn’t hear. He felt his own thoughts tugged and pulled: made loud and technicolour as Kylo dragged them out to look more closely at them. 

The whispers got louder, frantic and worried, and then they slowly eked down, the urgency fading and a calmer susurrus in their wake. He felt the easing out as Kylo withdrew, felt the world come back into focus from the brief confusion. Hux didn’t let go straight off, his tongue tracking over his dry lips. “Better?”

A tiny nod. “Yes.” A tinier pause. “Thank you.”

“We’ll work on your self-confidence away from me. You’re going to need to work remotely, eventually. We’ll find ways for you to find the control when I’m not around, and to reassure you that distance doesn’t mean loss or rejection.”  


“Yes,” he said, again. “Please.”  


***

That night, the dream was more involved. Hux almost knew it was a dream as he witnessed it, and his hand was already on his cock when he slipped back into the real world. It was bad, bad and wrong. He shouldn’t be masturbating to thoughts of Kylo, especially not if Kylo was becoming so dependent on him that–

–he bit his other hand as he climaxed, messing up his sheets and disgusting himself with his lack of self-control.

Okay. So Kylo was attractive, he thought, as he climbed out of bed and dragged the top sheet off to throw into the laundry pile early. He was toned and muscular, and he wasn’t stupid (he wouldn’t go so far as to say ‘intelligent’ because he didn’t know enough about his mental prowess to judge effectively), and he felt things to a ridiculously intense degree, but…

…it was wrong, wasn’t it? Even if Kylo didn’t know. It was kind of taking advantage of his position as his new mentor. 

And the fact that Kylo had become so obsessed with him that he couldn’t cope with the thought of being rejected by him. And…

Hux was going to need to find some way to exorcise this ridiculous crush of his own. That’s all it was. A crush. He didn’t have the time or capacity for it to be anything else.

He got in the shower and turned it as hot as he could stand.


	3. Chapter 3

Hux found ways to work with every problem that came up. He had that kind of problem-solving mind that wouldn’t let go of an issue until it was utterly crushed under his heel. Once something caught his attention, it was doomed, frankly. 

Before long, Kylo was happily coping with longer stretches apart. He would ‘check in’ if he needed refocussing. It wasn’t classed as a shout for help, but as an ‘update’, but they both knew it served to reassure him of his course and aim without blatantly screaming that it was a check and counterbalance against his anxiety.

Hux sent him on missions. The Leader stopped sneeringly making comments about them.

The General realised he was in some small amount of danger; Snoke had never planned for him to succeed where he, himself, had failed. He’d meant for Hux to screw it up and be ashamed of his failure, so Hux didn’t wax lyrical about his new weapon of choice. 

(And, perhaps, those treasonous thoughts continued… if he could control Kylo where Snoke had not managed, if he could tap into his potential… what need did Hux have of Snoke? What was Snoke better at than Hux? The man never acted for himself, after all: his Knights had forever been his agents. And now Hux had his own.)

Everything was going swimmingly. Hux was pleased.

Even Kylo seemed pleased.

Then things went… a little… unexpected.

***

Hux no longer _needed_ to attend Kylo’s sessions. The Knight could blend his physical and Force routines together flawlessly, and Hux didn’t show for most of them, knowing Kylo had re-framed his absence as _trust_ now, and not _disinterest_. (A battle hard fought and won.) 

Still, it was a pleasant distraction, a moment of peace for Hux away from the bleeping noises. He could idly skim through things that didn’t need his whole attention span, then look up to watch the artistry of Kylo’s body in motion. It was an aesthetic thing, and a feeling of accomplishment.

_He_ had wrought this.

He felt something - maybe a drop in the pressure, maybe a mental nudge from Kylo - and looked up to watch the end of his training session. He’d switched on multiple droids and was in the process of spinning through the air and flaring them back with the Force. They kept coming back for more, and he kept rebuffing them and dancing between their bolts like he was born fluid and of the vacuum between danger. Tablet down, he let one hand rest on his knee as he admired the floor show. 

Kylo leapt a ridiculous height into the air - like a startled animal - flipping over three bolts and then slamming the droids into submission against the walls (one nearly clipping Hux’s ear) before landing in a crouch a foot in front of the General.

It was, he had to admit, impressive.

Kylo kept his head bowed - hands out - for a moment. And then his head tilted up for Hux’s approval and Hux was hit like a punch to the gut. _It was the precise expression and angle he’d been dreaming of for weeks, now_. The sense memory stirred deep in his loins and he was jolted out of his pleasant sense of accomplishment by his shameful, shameful lust.

He saw a flicker of terror on Kylo’s face, and he was really not going to be helping, was he? 

“Hux?”  


“Y-you did a… you did a good job.”  


Kylo looked broken, for a moment. He’d put his all into that display, and now Hux was squirming in his chair. His eyes flickered left and right, looking for some kind of… “…you had the dream, too?”

What? What?

“Uh…”  


“I… thought it was just me,” Kylo said, sounding apologetic. “I’m sorry. I either heard it, or I… pushed it into you, and–”  


Well, fuck. Dark Jedi could fuck about in your dreams? Made no small amount of sense, but that was terrifying in the extreme. If he was asleep, Kylo likely had even less control over his subconscious.

“Stop.”  


“Hux, I didn’t mean–”  


“Stop.” He tried to calm himself with a deep breath. “It’s not appropriate.”  


“…it… isn’t?”  


“You’re my… you’re under my command, Kylo.”  


“So?”  


“So. I could abuse my position. You could feel… forced.”  


“I don’t.”  


“You _do_ , though,” Hux snapped. “Whether you know it or not. You’re… you’re just trying to win my approval.”  


Kylo’s eyes went down. “I thought I had it.”

He did. He did, and that was the problem. “It’s not… don’t think I’m being cruel, because–”

“I want to,” Kylo mumbled, into his chest. “I want… to try. I’ve wanted to for a very long time.”  


How long, Hux wondered? And was it him, or his position that Kylo wanted to seduce? Would he like him if he was a lowly Captain? No, of course not. It was his rank, and…

…Kylo put one hand on his knee. Head still bowed, just the smallest amount of contact. “Please,” Kylo asked. There was no force behind his request, it was simply that: _asking_. Not demanding. 

He wanted it. He did. Hux wanted to feel those lips on him, but he also didn’t want to abuse his position. Kylo was a vulnerable person, but… who else would take care of him? Not even in a sexual fashion… He’d run from authority figures - or been pushed from them - one after the other. Written off as too broken, as too emotional and fucked up.

Hux knew what it was like to be written off. Maybe he was taking advantage of him, maybe not. He liked to think he’d done more to help the man than anyone previously had. He liked to think, perhaps, that he’d been only a force for improvement in his life… and who else would be able to handle his over-the-top heart? His melodramatic outbursts? His constant need for approval, for control, for… affection? Even if Hux’s affection had been sharp and to the point, he’d offered it every time he’d told him he had _use_ , every time he’d told him _not to give up_.

Maybe he was the best of a bad lot. The best option Kylo _had_. 

Maybe Kylo was the best option _he_ had.

He wasn’t sure if that was a depressing thought or not.

Still. They’d both had - and enjoyed, apparently - the same dream. Kylo, on his knees. He knew how it continued, knew intensely. He’d been waking hard and frustrated for weeks, now. 

Kneeling, a hand on Hux’s own knee. Head down, hair loose around his face like a waterfall. Hux swallowed.

He wanted this.

“Show me what you’re capable of, then,” Hux said, forcing his voice as steely as he could. He didn’t touch him, moving the tablet out of reach, putting his hands on the armrests of his familiar chair. (It felt, for a moment, almost like a throne.) His legs parted a little, and he looked down at the Knight before him.  


Who looked up with such rapt, hopeful longing that Hux felt a flicker of empathy for him: he was so very alone that being allowed to suck the General’s cock was a boon to him. Hux would put someone’s genitals in his own mouth, but he couldn’t think of being pleased with having to do it on his knees. His head wasn’t wired up to enjoy that in the same way that it seemed Kylo’s was, which would be why he was the one leading the other’s training.

The world was made up of leaders and followers. Hux knew which he was, and always had. His breath caught at the look from under those long lashes, the slight curve of full lips. Kylo put a hand over the bulge in his slacks, and Hux was taken by how damn _big_ it was. It would certainly feel good wrapped around his cock, his two hands combined would cocoon him completely. He knew their grip was strong, and the man’s wrists both flexible and co-ordinated, and that was definitely going on the list, if this went well.

Kylo felt him through the fabric, his fingers and flat palm running hot trails over the swell. It was maddeningly not enough, and Hux narrowed his eyes to contain his own impatience. He was close to barking at him to get on with it when he saw the flicker of doubt on Kylo’s face.

Hux frowned. “What?”

“…you were angry.”  


“Impatient,” he corrected him.  


“Never,” Kylo said, with the faintest of smiles on his lips. “I don’t believe it.”  


“Well, do: I’m Human, underneath it all.”  


That was enough to dispel the momentary tension, and then Kylo pushed his face in to nip at his clothed inner thigh as his fingers moved to work on his belt and buckle. It was hot, and promised so much more to come. Hux pushed his fingers through Kylo’s dark mop of hair, sending a little reassurance through with his touch. It helped to know that Kylo really _did_ want this, helped him feel less like he was taking advantage of a vulnerable man.

Yes, Kylo was vulnerable. But he was also an adult, and if he chose this - wanted this - then Hux couldn’t in all honesty say he wasn’t capable of that decision. He was more capable than most gave him credit for, it was simply that his mind - and his… _powers_ \- worked in a different way. Once you understood that, you could recalibrate and interact accordingly.

Kylo blossomed under the gentle touch, and Hux wondered when someone had last touched him lovingly? 

(When had someone _ever_ touched _him_ like that was not thought about.)

A cold anger gripped his spine, and he snarled hold of his hair, hard. Pulled his head until it tipped up to meet his gaze. 

“I will take care of you,” he promised, roughly. “You want that, don’t you?”  


Kylo looked close to crying at the concept, his expression so complex as to need a star chart just to navigate the eyes. “Yes, _Master_.”

The word dripped from his lips like nectar budding deep within a flower’s core: an honest, forthright admission of what he saw Hux to be. _Master_. One in control. One to guide, and to protect. One to help shape, to encourage to grow. 

It made something snap into place inside, and he pulled harder, making Kylo’s neck bend backwards as he went with the gesture. The man didn’t fight at all, his eyes drifting almost shut in bliss at the gentle-rough treatment. He would do anything for him, wouldn’t he? And why?

Because Hux had seen in him something worth saving, something worth protecting. Had carried him, broken and dejected, and pushed him back to his feet. Had told him - time and time again - that he was _worth_ something. Worth effort, worth time, worth pushing through his problems. Hadn’t let him sabotage himself, hadn’t let his fears win.

**Had told him he was still important, and would grow to be so much more than he already was**. Hux smiled.

“I will take care of you,” he promised, again, never dropping the eye-contact. “I will push you to the limits of your power, and push you beyond what you thought you could do. I will teach you how to _win_. And you will win by my side, won’t you, my Knight?”  


“ _Yes, Master_.” Surer words this time, the fanatic’s fire on his tongue.   


Just like that, a circle made complete. A circuit closed: the snap of connecting parts fitting together. Kylo was made to obey, and Hux to command. “Make me proud.”

He let go of his hair, and gripped the chair again.

No hesitation this time, and Kylo pulled his clothing open with eager hands. He felt the large grip pulling him free from his underwear, tugging his hard cock out to the training room air. As expected, the hands engulfed him completely, and they would have to be enjoyed later on. For now, though, they simply moved him into place and then Kylo pushed his long nose into his ballsac, nuzzling under his shaft and breathing him deeply in.

Hux wondered how many men he’d–

“Just you, in my dreams,” Kylo answered, the question unasked.   


“I trust they were instructive dreams.”  


“Prophetic, you might say.”   


And useful, because Kylo’s fat tongue started to lave wetly over his balls. One hand curled around his cock and started to stroke up and down as he did so, and Hux smiled down at him. “Good boy.”

Kylo replied by licking him from root to tip, his hand moving just ahead of his mouth. Up to the tip, and then worried over the sensitive head. He lapped and lapped and then his broad, full lips gulped over the crown.

Hux was hit by the sense-memory again, and he held Kylo’s eyes as the dreams tunnelled in on this moment. It froze, suspended, a then-become-now, a moment they’d both longed for and not expressed. 

No more. He would deny them no longer. A nod, and the permission was granted.

Kylo might be new to this, but he learned quickly. He always did if you gave him the right encouragement, and fingers and thumb webbing out over his cheek to feel it bellow around him were enough reassurance. He slurped messily, his teeth catching now and then, his throat getting used to the pressure when he tried to take him deep inside. It was imperfect, but deeply-meant, and that was hotter than any paid hole could ever be. 

Hux let Kylo pleasure him for a while, before he growled at him to sit back. He watched as his spit-slick shaft slipped from those lips, watched the chain-cord of saliva that connected them. Watched as Kylo’s tongue swirled around to break it, and the way Hix’s dick stayed up to proud attention after he’d finished. 

He always woke before the end. He never knew what was supposed to come next.

“Show me how you’d please yourself, on me,” Hux ordered. He wanted to know what got Kylo’s engine running, and the thought of watching him attempt to pleasure himself by proxy had the blood roaring in his ears.   


“Yes, Master,” Kylo said, and his attention snapped down like a sniper-scope.  


The gloves came off, and Hux was pleased. It might be nice another time, but right now he wanted skin to skin contact. The large fingers - thick like bones of their own - wrapped gracefully around and started a tight, punishing stroke. Of course that would be how Kylo would like it: almost a beating, almost like being hurt through the pleasure. It was rougher than Hux would be with himself, but it was oh so much more delicious for the insight it gave him into the other’s mind.

He could be firm. Oh, could he be. Their eyes never wavered as Kylo gave it his all, his hand blurring over his shaft as the other kneaded and tugged at his balls, teasing just behind them and sending hot sparks right through him. He was going to come, he was - it was inevitable - and _oh so very good_ and Hux stopped fighting it. Kylo didn’t flinch once, though his eyes closed as he continued to stroke Hux through his climax. 

The General watched as the hot splashes painted his closed lids, beaded over his lashes and dripped down his nose as if trying to make for his mouth. He was beautiful, wasn’t he? In his own, severe way: all planes and edges and curves and hope, bundled up together. So, so much potential. He grabbed Kylo’s throat and tugged him up, in close so he could lap his own emissions from the other man’s face. He gathered them up with his tongue, then he pushed his tongue past Kylo’s eagerly parted lips and kissed them into his mouth as a gift.

Kylo, for his part, lapped and suckled at every drop, taking Hux’s tongue and the offerings and gulping them down. He keened a low note of bliss as they traded secrets like that, then stayed, swallowing air, when Hux pulled back to recline in his chair.

His Knight was still hard. And still - of course - fully dressed.

“Tell me, do you think you deserve to come, too?” he asked.  


Kylo swayed, his lips plump and his pupils blown. “Whatever Master wills,” he replied, no trace of disobedience anywhere in him.

“Will you beg nicely?”  


Onto his hands, on all fours, clasping Hux’s boot. His back bowed in supplication, his whole posture screaming submission. “Please, Master, if I have served you well, please… may I come, too?”

Fuck, but that was hot. 

“Stand. Strip.”  


Kylo did as he was told, and Hux wrapped a hand around his very sated cock. It wouldn’t function again this soon, but it was pleasant to hold it, all the same. A show of his power, a reminder that he’d already had his fun.

His Knight rose, and stripped with cunning efficiency, ripping the black fabric from his white skin, scored with lightning-strike silver and pink scar tissue. He looked like a moment of frozen space-battle, a canvas of near-misses and almost-gones. Hux admired the flexion of muscles below the canvas of his skin, admired the dots of darker flesh that just accented his moon-brightness. The little cluster of hair above his waistband, and - _oh yes_.

As expected, he had one hell of a cock. It was probably proportionate with his height, but it was the thick flare of it that really had his mouth watering. Should he want to suck it, he’d have to ready his jaw to do it justice. And - well. At some point he was going to have to ride it, wasn’t he? Because a cock like that begged you to enjoy it to the fullest, and Hux felt his own hole tense and flex in anticipation.

Not today, though, not today. _Soon_. Soon he’d ride it to both their satisfaction, but he had to make sure it was at the right time. 

Kylo clasped his hands behind his back, his feet shoulder-width apart, his head lightly bowed in a respectfully demure pose. Hux appreciated the supplication, unasked for. He _was_ learning.

“Over my knee,” he said.   


Kylo did not hesitate, moving to brace himself on the chair and bending over, offering his ass up for whatever Hux saw fit. He was such an obedient little thing… well. Not so ‘little’, but he just craved this, didn’t he? Even non-sexually, he was calmer when he had someone else’s rules and order to constrain him. For a man with such limitless power, a time of limitation was likely a relief.

Hux stroked his hand from the nape of Kylo’s neck over his spine, feeling it curve in gratitude. Down, between sculpted shoulderblades, through the valley of his muscles and towards his ass. He lifted his hand away and then brought it down flat and open, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing through the room.

Kylo had done nothing wrong, but Hux knew he would appreciate this, all the same. As predicted, a gasp broke out, followed by a heartfelt _thank you_. Kylo adjusted his stance, gripping onto the edge of the chair, trying to put his weight evenly across Hux’s lap. 

It wasn’t even about punishment, not now. It was about something else entirely: sensation, and connection. Kylo craved the control over him, and the sting of the contact. Hux loved the power he had - _spanking a man who could choke him with his mind_ \- and the sounds of pleasure each thudding touch gave. Kylo’s fingers moved to his knee, clutching through the paddling swats, his legs and ass clenching and tightening under it. The pain couldn’t really be that intense, but the _humiliation_ \- oh yes.

Soft skin turning hot under the blows, the gasps that were promises and begging and pleading in one: pre-verbal, deeper, _older_. 

By the time Hux’s hand hurt too much to keep going, Kylo was shuddering and shaking like he’d been thrashed to within an inch of his life - and like he _loved it_. He slipped a throbbing hand between his thighs, feeling for his balls and cock. Kylo whined and writhed, and Hux grabbed the back of his neck to calm him down.

“Shh,” he said, and held tighter.  


Kylo stilled, then, nodding his acquiescence. He held still - almost deathly so - as Hux stroked his cock, his hand curled around the man’s waist in order to hold his genitals, the other keeping him bent down like this. He milked over his length like this was a clinical, necessary function… and bent to whisper against his hair:

“You can come, if you think you deserve it.”  


Which fucked his head up some more, and deliberately so. Kylo struggled under the grip at his neck, trying to get up and away. He called out in despair, wanting to look up. Hux would not let him.

“Master!”  


“If you think you deserve to be mine, to be by my side. If you think you’ve done well. If you think you’ll _continue_ to do well for me.”  


Kylo flinched, cowering into himself. Clearly he thought it a trick, thought he was about to be punished, but then he straightened his back out… and tried to stand as proudly as he could on all fours. “I want to be,” he whispered.

He wanted to be. Wanted to be good enough to be Hux’s. That made his chest swell with pride and affection, and he kissed his lobe before righting to stroke him all the more. 

“You will be,” he insisted. “You will be. Strong, and powerful, and in control. You will make me proud. You will do as I say, and _I will not let you go_.”  


That was it, that was the thing Kylo needed, and he felt the release like a line pulled taut and snapped. Felt the shatter in the air as Kylo screamed in ecstasy, spurting through the rough, loving jerks along his shaft. 

His Knight. He’d train him just right. He knew he wouldn’t disappoint him, and when the last washes of his orgasm seeped out of him, Hux felt a rising satisfaction flood through himself. All those people who hadn’t seen the potential - in either of them - and how very, very sorry they would be. (But not for long.) 

He pulled Kylo up by the hair to kiss him again, but this one tasted of teeth and fury and blood close to the surface. He licked his mouth fiercely, writing his name with his tongue, and felt how Kylo accepted it all without argument.

Once he’d done, he pulled him back to look at the dazed, glassy-eyed satisfaction there. He wondered how he must look - power-high, proud and vindicated - and decided it would be a good look on him, too. 

“Thank you,” Kylo purred, his low voice rumbles of happy, bone-deep bliss.   


“Put your clothes back on. You’re moving into my room from now on.” He didn’t need to ask, because he knew the answer to anything he said would - almost in every case - be _yes_.  


He’d won.

He’d won. But this was just the start. Now he had a Knight of his own… well.

He didn’t fancy the Leader’s chances for long.

Kylo got up shakily, dressing with a subdued - but happy - speed. Hux tucked his cock back away, brushing himself down to look presentable, and rose. Kylo fell automatically into place beside him, waiting for his lead.

He was going to show _everyone_ what they were capable of. With Kylo by his side, he would **win**. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had it mentioned that maybe I should let you know I'm over on tumblr @[sithofren](http://sithofren.tumblr.com/Prompt#_=_) where I do sort of take requests okay bye.


End file.
